writing about my life

Mind-loops evaded

leave a comment »

I will showcase my introspection – what is it like? aiming to write details of situations with large segments describing the states of mind of the participants, the main one of whom will be you.

a rounded piece with a diversity of subjects that includes all the above sections. squeezing it out one little bit at a time, pacing yourself and not looking ahead to the finish until time is right.

not censoring is crucial

The Russell/Heygate/Dunn partnership lives on. They are both so kind. I am so creative currently and they approve. “Shut up Dunn” says a prep school voice, “you’re not creative, you’re nothing”

Writing is my opportunity to go into spiritual retreat. Don’t listen to those who said you were “too introspective”, I remind myself.

Writing is an adventure in a large space. Borges’ library of texts. Breed new pieces by mutating old ones!

dont censor

Aim for honesty and a direct representation of real thoughts and feelings.

dont censor (again)

Bill is a nice man and has been very kind to me. He holds a kind of light mystical common-sense. He believes in Balance and may have got some of his insight from the Rush track.

Ian loves me to bits and it is only people who are prejudiced by the mentally ill label who find his sexual obsession abnormal. He is a very loving man capable of more love than many, including me probably. He is rather boyish and does tend to chatter away a little too much sometimes.

Pete is hyperintelligent, weird and capable of manipulation. Dan is his sidekick and I am still a little paranoid that they are plotting my doom. Steve is simply a mystery to all human observers. While Ian may be the avatar of Loki, God of Mischief, Steve may actually be an alien sent to observe humanity from another world. Incarnate in human form, a shapeshifter who can mimic human form, or an alien possessing an illusion-projector machine that stops us seeing his real, insectoid 12 legged form.


Some in my family are slowly dying in their political trench designed to rotect from modernity, which they cannot understand. They were never set a good example by anyone to show belief in humane, socialist inspired views. when I was brought up there was a general sense of classism in the air which I joined in with and adopted without knowing any better. I evolved out of this, they never did and it is visible in their politics.

I just censored something. Its like I would have to keep my writing secret if I was frank about some things. you, o reader will never know what got chopped out… unless you are very very good at guessing. almost uncannily good, you would have to be. almost superhuman.


Perception of someone I know. I think he is an alcy. he looks like he is suffering from an extended hangover that never quite goes away, always in a dark tunnel whose exit into the light is another drink.


Dont censor

I think I’m beginning to get like this. I know I am getting to the stage where I am in denial. How could I have perceived Mark’s Tunnel without having known such a phenomenon myself. and last night I sent Miranda some malicious texts. Or were they? I was objecting to her bossiness. But I really let rip. hmm I am not sure whether to apologise.

Dont censor

The Struggle to Trust my Nurses

They are either:

“Agents of a totalitarian state that uses Psychiatry to torment dissenters”


“Kind ladies who became nurses only to care for me with dedicated compassion”

Hmm wait a second – both alternatives seem a little extreme. Maybe pete was right about me. I am not allowing for shades of grey. this would be more like

“people who got jobs in an inefficient health service who visit me to provide a small amount of care and monitoring every now and then.”

that seems to be a centre ground

so as I write I am combing out Karmic tangles. I am airing my thoughts in a safe medium and then trying to establish a dialectic where I develop them closer to the truth, closer to Reality, capital R.

I can capitalise Reality, but I need to because my perceptions of it have at times been in doubt. schizywheezle. If people think I am capitalising through a religious ploy I’d explain that my chief goal is to get there and thus in some small way I

glorify knoweldge of reality as the pilgrims goal, the Holy City. And maybe you never arrive, just keep approaching like an asymptote. So I am a pilgrim with a limp. Not a gammy leg, but a slightly gammy brain. After all what’s more important for a pilgrimage to Reality than the brain.

dont censor

But actually why am I so tempted to censor? Is it that deep within all of us are areas where no-one but us may go? Hmm this could be. And so to protect ourselves we devise systems of deception and cover up. so that we actually paint a portrait of who we are to hold up to the world so we can evade attention for all our nasty bits, and thus create an identity that is the thing we hold onto most tightly of all things. And yet this identity is a mask to help us avoid having to grow in honesty by not censoring. Hmm. Or maybe usually they are not “nasty bits” but really “tender patches”. I misunderstand emotional pain and believe it is called “evil”, when really it is just self and I am projecting my misunderstanding onto myself.

Out of a clodded mass of mental fudge comes clarity as I decide to write once more. My mind automatically surveys the latest bunch of experiences and starts to order and plan what will be written.

I have the immediate past to offload before I can start to dig down and aim to offload the deeper memories of the more distant past. In fact all memories are joined with all other memories in a tangle and one recent memory can indeed link up with earlier ones, even from childhood.


There was a debacle with Darrell and Mark from the square. Mark had told Darrell I was a shit writer. As soon as I heard it coming I knew I was in trouble. I was sitting in Darrell’s flat chatting to him after a run. He asked me up ostensibly to fix his computer but really I think he was lonely. He came out with some stuff about humans having been into space in ancient times, which I, somewhat cruelly perhaps, assumed was evidence of mental ill health or too much pot. I couldn’t fix the computer but Darrell held forth for a while, about his problems.

I left feeling a sense of fear in case I should get tangled up in his problems, most of which were based around other criminal types from his social circle who were harrassing him. I silently thanked god that my life was not that broken. But the Mark statement was starting to niggle at me and I sensed that I was going to have difficulties. I kept on re-running the thought and imagining the insult, and it was turning into a mind-loop (thanks to Bill for the term). In fact now looking back I actually think this trivial, tiny report of anothers’ words was enough to make me give up writing for a while. How’s that for hypersensitivity. I could see that Darrell and Mark’s world was full of people dissing each other and primitively vying for the dominance of being the big “tough guy”.

Darrell had even confirmed this by disparagingly referring to another local resident as a “wannabe gangster”, as if this was the most damning failure, not to be a real criminal, but only to aspire to be one…


Then as the hurt sank in over the next few weeks, I reflected more on the macho world of these ignorant folk, and several times I became quite pissed off. I toyed with the idea of writing a book called “Macho” which analysed their culture and their brittle aggression. I even thought it might be narrated by a cartoon character I had devised, a pit-bull called “Fang”. But at the same time I tried to wriggle out of the ridiculous grievance based on such a tiny wound, scarcely a pinprick on my ego…

Now I have returned to writing I see that it couldnt really stop me. But I have decided to think less and less about publication and just do it not worrying about reward. And so here I am, Steve, with a string of chewing tobacco in my mouth, talking to you again.


Written by Luke Dunn

September 6, 2015 at 2:05 pm

Posted in Prose

Tagged with , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: